*I always wondered what the deal was with this writing stuff. Shouldn’t be too hard you just take a character and put it with another character and some idea and bang you have a work of fiction for the ages. After careful consideration and hours of research I have discovered the ultimate combination of characters for fan fiction: a love story between Inigo Montoya , and Princess Buttercup from the Princess Bride. So here it is. Brandon said it needed fleshing out. So I shot his ass.
Enjoy! -Harry MacDowell*
Our story begins upon the little boat carrying Vizzini, Fezzik and Princess Buttercup. Inigo Montoya is sailing it with the skill of a passionate lover. Careful glances over his shoulder at the thickening shadows filling in the moonlight faintly bathing the long sobering night reveal the silhouette of Princess Buttercup at the stern of the ship. She looks helpless, beautiful, enticing, demure and sweet. Fezzik the Giant is snoring loudly beside her creating a bass grinding to the staccato“Invconceivable!” muttered in Vizzini’s fitful dreams. Inigo is briefly inspired to dance. But he does not. For the sadness of the Princess unstrings the lute of sleeping comrades.
Inigo can sense that deep sorrow swimming in her pale water blue eyes. Normally he would ignore her pain in favor of his own, but not tonight. Toonight, her sorrow touches him in a place not touched for a long time; his broken bleeding misery laden heart. Since the loss of his father to the six fingered man’s callous stabbing, Inigo’s heart has been as hard and shriveled as a month old parsnip. Unable to love he found peace in the countless duels he fought and the brandy that unleashed his great rage. Something in the far away stare of this lady, a stare that dares to reach the very stars themselves, opens up the door of his heart. Like a key. A starry key glittering in the love lost reflected in her eyes. This key not only opens his heart, but his mouth as well. The pain inside is now slightly ajar heart makes his voice hoarse and sultry, like the purr of a tigress in heat when he speaks.
“Lady. You have the look of a woman who suffers,” he ties off the rudder and walks slowly, deliberately to her, “I, too know what it means to suffer.” His eyes gaze at the golden curl of her hair, and the finely crafted embroidery on her breasts. Her bosoms are far larger than he had expected them to be.
“Die pig, I have naught to say to you.”
She has no intention of accepting his obvious overtones of love. She will remain steadfast in the face of his undeniable passion. She grits her teeth against the lure of Inigo’s raw sexual heat.
Inigo sees the meaning behind her words with the pain in his heart. Her harshness masks a cry for help and a longing for his touch. She is really saying, “Help me. Love me.”
“Lady. I can feel the pain in your words. I know that the words that were thrown like daggers at my eyes, are truly cries for help and love.” He steps closer and gently touches her satin smooth skin, locking his dark and feral gaze with hers.
Buttercup is amazed and delighted at the insight this Spaniard possesses and the gentle caress of his sultry speech is too much for her fragile façade.
“You are right, dear Inigo. I love you. Take me away from all this pain.” The tears rolling down her cheeks tell the truth. Those little salty droplets tell the truth of her unrelenting need for his love.
Seizing the moment, Inigo deftly slices her bonds with the sword that killed his father, gathers her up into his arms and kisses her passionately. The power of their kiss melts away the shadows of the long dark night of their twin pain. Troubles, pointless, die in each other’s embrace. The burning heat of their lovemaking sets the very ship ablaze. Burning and fucking they sink into the sea having found true love.
*I love a good romance. Short sweet and to the point. Thanks for reading, now tell me you love it. - Harry MacDowell*
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The Princess Bride as it should have been.
Date: 2008-01-09 09:26 pm (UTC)Enjoy!
-Harry MacDowell*
Our story begins upon the little boat carrying Vizzini, Fezzik and Princess Buttercup. Inigo Montoya is sailing it with the skill of a passionate lover. Careful glances over his shoulder at the thickening shadows filling in the moonlight faintly bathing the long sobering night reveal the silhouette of Princess Buttercup at the stern of the ship. She looks helpless, beautiful, enticing, demure and sweet. Fezzik the Giant is snoring loudly beside her creating a bass grinding to the staccato“Invconceivable!” muttered in Vizzini’s fitful dreams. Inigo is briefly inspired to dance. But he does not. For the sadness of the Princess unstrings the lute of sleeping comrades.
Inigo can sense that deep sorrow swimming in her pale water blue eyes. Normally he would ignore her pain in favor of his own, but not tonight. Toonight, her sorrow touches him in a place not touched for a long time; his broken bleeding misery laden heart. Since the loss of his father to the six fingered man’s callous stabbing, Inigo’s heart has been as hard and shriveled as a month old parsnip. Unable to love he found peace in the countless duels he fought and the brandy that unleashed his great rage. Something in the far away stare of this lady, a stare that dares to reach the very stars themselves, opens up the door of his heart. Like a key. A starry key glittering in the love lost reflected in her eyes. This key not only opens his heart, but his mouth as well. The pain inside is now slightly ajar heart makes his voice hoarse and sultry, like the purr of a tigress in heat when he speaks.
“Lady. You have the look of a woman who suffers,” he ties off the rudder and walks slowly, deliberately to her, “I, too know what it means to suffer.”
His eyes gaze at the golden curl of her hair, and the finely crafted embroidery on her breasts. Her bosoms are far larger than he had expected them to be.
“Die pig, I have naught to say to you.”
She has no intention of accepting his obvious overtones of love. She will remain steadfast in the face of his undeniable passion. She grits her teeth against the lure of Inigo’s raw sexual heat.
Inigo sees the meaning behind her words with the pain in his heart. Her harshness masks a cry for help and a longing for his touch. She is really saying, “Help me. Love me.”
“Lady. I can feel the pain in your words. I know that the words that were thrown like daggers at my eyes, are truly cries for help and love.” He steps closer and gently touches her satin smooth skin, locking his dark and feral gaze with hers.
Buttercup is amazed and delighted at the insight this Spaniard possesses and the gentle caress of his sultry speech is too much for her fragile façade.
“You are right, dear Inigo. I love you. Take me away from all this pain.” The tears rolling down her cheeks tell the truth. Those little salty droplets tell the truth of her unrelenting need for his love.
Seizing the moment, Inigo deftly slices her bonds with the sword that killed his father, gathers her up into his arms and kisses her passionately. The power of their kiss melts away the shadows of the long dark night of their twin pain. Troubles, pointless, die in each other’s embrace. The burning heat of their lovemaking sets the very ship ablaze. Burning and fucking they sink into the sea having found true love.
*I love a good romance. Short sweet and to the point. Thanks for reading, now tell me you love it. - Harry MacDowell*